Tag Archives: patience

Patience & Compassion

We love our veterinarian–I and my dogs. He is an all around good guy who knows his stuff and who shares his professional knowledge liberally. Dr. Veterinarian also ensures that his staff is well informed on current trends, which makes life much easier for pet owners with routine questions.

The other day, one of my dogs and I were visiting his office with a minor concern. Near the end of our appointment, I mention to the vet how happy I am with the dog food we are using, pointing out my canine companion’s dark and extra richly glossy fur coat.

The vet concurs, then turns to me, asking, “What are you feeding him?”

Spirituality
Spirituality

My mind goes blank. I can see the dog-food bag in my mind’s eye–actually the entire line of offerings from this same company, but I cannot “read” the brand name on a single, envisioned package.

Still struggling to pull a name out of the air, I respond meekly, “Well, I can tell you what the entire line’s graphic design looks like, its color schemes and where to find it on the shelf at the local pet-food store.”

Shifting my focus from the bank of visual images in my mind to gaze back at the veterinarian’s face, I am suddenly five-years-old again, facing my father in a rare moment of impatience with me. The veterinarian’s facial expression is one of contorted, impatient disgust, telling me he does not have time for my bumbling lack of recall, especially this late in the afternoon near the end of the week.

Crestfallen internally, I decide to keep my mouth shut about my mild aphasia. Leaving the examination room, I pay my bill and exit with what little dignity I have left.

Walking out of the clinic’s front door, the sun greets me with the same comforting warmth it always does, as I ponder how many times I must have sent my own students, clients and acquaintances back to their childhoods through my professional or personal impatience and lack of compassion. Notes to Self: Be more patient. Be more compassionate.

Children of the Light I

Walking through a neighborhood not far from our own, I observe a woman grab the forearm of her gangly teenage son in vicious impatience. She does this only to yank him closer to herself so that she may spew several ugly, vitriolic phrases in his face about his worthlessness as a human being.

From the looks of the home’s side yard, it appears that the entire family of four has been out working, raking the side-yard dirt to free it from last year’s debris. A new chicken-wire fence is in place. Last fall’s leaves, twigs, sticks and branches, as well as a few scraggily green vines, rest in a heap in the corner of the area which is now cleared dirt.

Spirituality

The only friendly motion in the scene I am witnessing comes from the wriggling swaying tail of a puppy’s unstoppable joy at the undeniable beauty of this early spring day. I suspect the raking has something to do with making way for this family’s new canine friend. I wish that this puppy’s happiness could be magnified and distributed among all five souls present.

Today, I do not hold back. Turning my body halfway around to address the woman, while putting on my very best positive voice, I almost shout, “Wow, are you lucky to have such great help in the yard! Beautiful day to be outside. My own son is all grown up. Hardly see him. Busy. They grow up so fast.”

The woman stares back at me in shocked amazement (maybe at my cheery impudence), loosening her grip on her older male child’s forearm. Her mouth gapes in awe.

Mission accomplished. Further, immediate verbal abuse truncated. But, I can see that the boy’s personal Light is still crumpled up and twisted around his lank physical frame, leaving him vulnerable and emotionally unprotected.

Turning to continue on my walk, I say a silent prayer for this child, “Dear God, please protect this holy child, restore his Light and help him remember who he is—Yours.”